


Miscommunication

by LouLa



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-31
Updated: 2011-12-31
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:17:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouLa/pseuds/LouLa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After months of confusion and broken promises, Jasper reaches his limit when Edward isn't home with him for Christmas Eve. After a fight, Christmas morning brings a conclusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miscommunication

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Make the Yuletwi'd Gay fic exchange.

Headlights shone bright through the kitchen window as he made the turn into the short driveway. There was a time when my heart would have raced at the sight, and I would have jumped up and ran outside barefoot, not caring how cold it was, just needing to be in his arms.

Now, I didn't even flinch.

Edward was home, a day and a half later than he was supposed to be.

I don't know why it even surprised me anymore that he didn't make it home when he said he would. He could swear up and down, left and right that he would be home, but he never was. I don't know why he bothered to promise; I don't know why I continued to bother believing him.

I didn't move an inch when the keys jingled in the lock and the door creaked open. I didn't get up to from the table when I heard his jacket rustling and his shoes thudding to the floor. It was the first time that I didn't go to him when he arrived home.

I'd finally reached my breaking point.

I spent Christmas Eve alone, when he'd _promised_ me I wouldn't. He said he'd be home, and he wasn't.

"Jas," I heard him call, climbing the two stairs onto the landing where he paused. "I'm home," he said softly, likely not knowing I was within hearing distance.

Two years ago, we would have already been naked on the clothes-littered floor, rejoicing our reunion. But two years ago he would have been home at the time he promised. Two years ago I wouldn't have spent Christmas Eve completely alone wondering just what exactly my boyfriend was doing to celebrate the holiday. Two years ago, I would never have questioned if he would be faithful. Two years ago, Edward Cullen was an honest man.

An honest man who loved me.

It wasn't that I doubted whether he still loved me, I really believe he always has. It's just that I'd gotten to the point where I didn't know what to trust anymore. My heart told me that I was his, and only his, but my head wasn't so sure anymore.

It had all started when he got promoted. In the beginning, it was rare that he'd be late, and if he was going to be, he'd call, at the very least to let me know he was okay and not to worry―sometimes to apologize. It's not like I needed to hear him tell me he was sorry for breaking his promise, it's his job after all, he had to do what he had to do. But even after the time that had passed, I still worried. Was a phone call really that hard to make?

It was difficult enough to sleep when he's away, not hearing his voice and knowing he's okay just made it a hundred times worse. Not having his nightly whispered 'I love you'―his lips pressed against the phone or directly to my ear―to reassure me that we were still us made it hard to even shut my eyes at times.

He was hundreds of miles away while I was at home, alone, waiting for him. There was absolutely no way for me to know what he was doing. His layovers in hotel rooms lasted for days at a time occasionally. Hotel rooms in big cities were great for anonymous sex.

The questions, the doubt had been swirling around in my head for a while, it had just finally spiraled out of control. All those times he came home, me running to him and him just shrugging me off, sparing me no more than the barest of kisses before mumbling his exhaustion. It pointed to my greatest fear.

It had been over a year since we'd had sex that I didn't initiate. More than a year since he'd touched me like he meant it, like he wanted to be touching me. It was that that led me to believe he wasn't being monogamous.

We used to be passionate lovers, both of us hardly able to contain the need we felt to be with each other. Now he was always too tired, too busy, too preoccupied with something else.

The only conclusion I could come to was that he was sleeping with someone else.

It was altogether odd trying to comprehend that, because Edward was an honorable man, raised by a family with strong morals. But he'd always been such an avid lover. Now I had to practically beg for it. I'd had to beg for it a month ago and he hadn't touched me since.

He was getting it somewhere else, cheating on me. It was the only thing that made any sense at all―even though the thought of him cheating on me made absolutely no sense at all either.

I could hear him walking around upstairs now, likely searching for me. This was definitely not what he was used to. Normally I would be there to meet him at the door, even knowing he wouldn't be interested in seeing me―not like I was so desperate to see him, even now.

He would have let me kiss him and then listened to me tell him how I missed him. He'd stroke my arm in that annoyingly pacifying way and leave me with his discarded bags to go shower or sleep or eat. Anything that didn't involve me directly.

I was done with that rejection, I couldn't do it anymore. It didn't matter how much I missed him, how much I just needed him to hold me and love me, it was all one-sided.

He loved me in his own way, I guess, but the inexplicable flame that had long burned between us was gone. He didn't need me anymore like I still needed him. And that was the hardest part of it all.

I loved him, so completely and desperately, that it literally hurt not to go to him, even now. The possibility of his infidelity still fresh in my mind, I still wanted him, loved him, couldn't imagine my life without him.

But it's what I had to start imagining, because I couldn't do this anymore.

The muffled sound of his quiet footsteps came closer, and then I heard him whisper my name.

"What are you doing? Why are you sitting in the dark?" he asked cautiously.

I didn't bother answering, and hesitantly he moved closer.

"Jasper?" he tried again. "Baby, did something happen?"

I shook my head in disbelief, and he sighed with relief, not having any idea how bewildered I truly was at that moment.

He leaned down and lightly kissed the side of my neck, causing my teeth to grind together and my breath to come in sharp―neither of which he noticed, or pretended not to.

"I'm tired, please come to bed. Please," he said softly, earnestly. The second 'please' was verging on begging, and that's when I realized that he knew exactly what was wrong, but he was ignoring it so he wouldn't have to deal with it.

I knew he would use one of his excuses if I brought it up― _I'm tired, I need a shower, I can't do this now_ ―so I didn't even bother.

When he grabbed my hand and pulled me up, I let him, unfeelingly following him up the stairs and to our bedroom. Thoughtlessly, I shed most of my clothes and slid into our bed, feeling surprisingly cold when wrapped up in his familiar embrace. It wasn't warm like it used to be.

"Goodnight, Jas. Merry Christmas," he whispered, placing a kiss just below my ear.

He didn't bother to tell me he loved me, and I tried not to care, but it was too soon. I did care. I didn't want to care, like he didn't care when I didn't say it either. I always told him, I always wanted him to know, but I wanted to forget. I didn't want to remember that I loved him when he so easily seemed indifferent to me. He didn't care that I hadn't said a word to him or looked at him once all night.

He was out cold in less than five minutes while I lay wide awake and sick to my stomach, mind racing.

Knowing he was sound asleep, I let my eyes wander to him and my throat grew tight, making me immediately regret it. He looked just the same; the same as he did the first time we fell asleep together, the same as he did the first time he told me he loved me, the same as he did the last time he really made love to me. He was the same beautiful man I fell in love with in appearance, and it made me miss the other part of him so much more. I wanted my Edward back.

The Edward that told me he loved me all the time, just because he could; he said he liked the way it made me smile. The Edward that couldn't keep his hands off of me, no matter where we were―he was insatiable then, he knew he could have me whenever he wanted. The Edward that kept his promises. The Edward that I trusted. The Edward that I loved so much that I never thought we'd be here, where we are now, so far apart the distance seemed untraversable. He was right there beside me, yet so far away at the same time.

Silently, I slipped out of bed, not expecting him to stir. He made a small sound and rolled toward where I had just been in bed, making my stomach twist with guilt. Did he miss me subconsciously?

With a sigh, I decided it didn't matter and left the bedroom. I grabbed a blanket from the hall closet and huddled into the corner of the couch, still no closer to sleep than I had been two hours ago when I'd contemplated going to bed without him.

It was difficult to think about what I was going to do, but I forced myself.

I had no where to go. Edward and the Cullens were all that I had left after I came out to my family to be with him. He had his family to support him, I really only had him anymore. His sister Alice and I were close, but she was _his_ sister. If Edward and I were to... separate―as much as I didn't want to think that word, I forced myself to―I wouldn't have her either.

At least Emmett would be happy.

What the hell would I do? I had a decent job, at least, but I had absolutely no one and no where. He was all I had. He was my everything.

My jaw trembled and I fought hard to resist the feeling that was overwhelming me. My chest felt tight and my eyes burned, my hands shook wildly as I fought back the tears.

I really couldn't do this. I couldn't picture myself packing up my things, I couldn't see myself leaving him, I couldn't imagine never seeing him again, I couldn't bear the thought of not being his.

The sob that ripped out of my chest physically hurt and I tried to keep the next one in―because I couldn't do this either for fear that I'd never stop―but the cry came out even more painful and loud than the last.

I couldn't fucking do it. I couldn't leave him. I couldn't. Never seeing him again, kissing him, hearing his voice, feeling his skin against mine―just the thought made my vision swim. Being alone... Being without _him_ would be worse than being partially with him.

"Jasper?"

I froze, sucking in a sharp breath and trying to stop the next heartbroken sob that was building.

"Baby?"

I gritted my teeth down hard and squeezed my eyes shut tight, holding my breath. Thankfully it helped quell the crying a little bit.

Then he flicked on the light and I quickly used my hands to scrub at the wet tear tracks on my cheeks and cover my eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

My hands were still on my face when I curled them into fists, the rage replacing the sadness so quickly it was almost crippling.

I wanted to scream at him, to yell until my throat was raw and my voice was hoarse. I wanted to hit him, pound on his chest so hard that his lungs and heart felt bruised and broken the same way mine did.

But I took a deep breath and I forced my voice to be even, and I asked him, "What _is_ wrong, Edward?"

"What? Nothing," he said back, his face betraying the shock his voice held. He was lying, he knew as well as I did that there was something wrong. If he wasn't going to freely offer it up, I doubted I would be able to pull it out of him―and frankly, I didn't have the energy to even try.

Defeated, I just shook my head and pushed past him up the stairs back into our bedroom. I kept my back to him as he slid in beside me again and he sighed, his hand brushing along my side.

I pushed his hand away. "Jasper," he whispered.

"You're tired," I said flatly.

"Jas," he tried to start again.

"Go to sleep."

"I l―"

"Don't," I cut him off forcefully.

He sat for a moment before finally settling down on the opposite side of the bed. My eyes stayed wide open, staring blindly ahead at the wall, pointedly ignoring the picture of us together on my nightstand.

"Baby, you know I can't sleep without you," he said quietly just a few minutes later.

I didn't acknowledge his words, instead I continued to stare at the wall. The bed shifted as he moved closer to me and he pressed himself up against my rigid body.

"I love you," he whispered against the back of my neck, lips brushing over the sensitive skin. He kissed my neck, then the back of my head, and my breaths only turned that much more harsh.

"Jasper, I love you," he repeated, more loudly and firmly this time. "Please," he begged desperately, wrapping his arm around me and finding my hand, holding it, squeezing it. "I wanted to be here. I'm sorry."

Against my will, another tear slid hotly from the corner of my eye and I closed them tight, not wanting any more to escape.

"I love you too," I finally said back, letting my body go slack against his.

― ― ―

It felt like I'd just fallen asleep when I was waking up again, the _buzz-buzz-buzz_ of a cell phone vibrating pulling me from my fitful slumber.

I knew it was probably Edward's cell, Alice would likely be calling already. I looked left and he was still soundly asleep. I thought about waking him, making him go get his phone, but I didn't have the heart to do it in the end.

He looked like _my_ Edward with his face buried in the space between our two pillows, hair a wild mess, and his shirt bunched up near his shoulders. I sighed quietly and tried to be silent as I rolled out of bed.

Just as I grabbed the phone, the backlight died, signaling the end of the call. I had been right though, it had been Alice.

I took the phone with me as I exited the room, knowing she would call back again.

I wasn't even halfway down the stairs when it started to vibrate again. Without hesitating or pausing to check, I answered the call.

"Yes?" I asked, smiling in spite of myself―Alice could always seem to make me smile, without even trying.

There was a pause, followed by a voice the complete opposite of the one I expected to hear. "Why are you answering Edward's phone?"

At least the voice wasn't unfamiliar, though it was still unwanted. "Because he is sleeping," I answered back curtly.

As close as Alice and I were, Emmett and I remained twice as far apart. We just didn't get along and we never had.

"Wake him up."

It wasn't a question, but I treated it as such anyway. "No, I will not."

"Why?" Emmett asked impatiently.

"Because he is tired. He can call you back later."

"I want to talk to my brother, put him on the fucking phone," Emmett demanded.

"No. He can call you back later," I repeated.

"Fuck you, it's fucking Christmas, I want―"

"You know what, Emmett? You can go fuck yourself. I don't know what the fuck your problem is but your brother is fucking sleeping and I'm not going to wake him up when you can call back later. I'm done with this fucking bullshit. Grow the fuck up."

I had snapped, by every meaning of the word. I _couldn't_ do this anymore. I was done, with all of it. Over. Fuck it.

"Baby?"

Edward's tentative, gruff voice startled me slightly and I hurriedly shoved his phone at him, pushing past him to go back up the stairs.

"Jasper," he called after me. "What the fuck did you do?" he growled lowly into the phone.

I slammed our bedroom door, blocking out the sound of his voice as he talked to his brother.

Emmett had been trying for years to separate us. He finally got his wish. All this time his problem had been that I took his best friend away from him. Emmett really never fully understood that I had never tried to replace him. Edward was my lover and my best friend, I'd never tried to steal him away from his brother, but Emmett turned it into a competition and he was a sore loser―Edward had picked me when Emmett had pushed his hand.

It was over now. Emmett would be thrilled.

Haphazardly, I pulled any scrap of clothing I knew was mine from the dresser and stuffed it into a duffel bag. I hadn't bothered to lock the door so I wasn't surprised when Edward came through it.

He paused for a minute, taking in the sight of me packing my bag.

"Baby, where are you going?" he asked, the fear painfully obvious in his voice.

I guess he didn't expect to spend Christmas alone. Funny how that works, I hadn't expected to spend Christmas Eve alone either.

"Jasper," he choked out.

I quickly reached into the bathroom to grab my toothbrush off the counter and zipped up my bag, trying desperately to ignore him.

"Jasper," he repeated, more forcefully, yet sounding more unsure and afraid at the same time.

"I'm done," I said, the finality so clear that I'm sure even Emmett could hear it through the phone.

"No," was all Edward had to say.

He reached out to grab me as I tried to maneuver past him for the door. It was easy enough to shrug off his one hand, but his phone hit the floor with a clatter and he wrapped both arms around my waist. My fingers dug into his skin as I tried to pry his arms off, but his hold was strong. He wasn't letting go.

"Just fucking let go. Let me go," I told him.

He didn't; he held on tighter and I struggled against him fruitlessly.

"I'm done, Edward. I quit, I give up. Just let me go, I can't do this anymore. It's over."

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I was spun around and my back hit the wall painfully and I had no choice but to stay there as Edward held me in place.

He shook his head at me, repeating 'no' over and over, in denial.

It was harder looking at his face and believing the words I had said, the words I wanted to say again to make him understand. But the pain, the terror, the panic clear on his face as his eyes searched mine and my face for a tell made it impossible to speak.

"It's... it's over," I forced myself to say, swallowing down the painful lump in my throat.

"No," he said firmly. "Nothing is over."

"I can't do this anymore," I repeated.

"Why?" he demanded. "Because of Emmett? Fuck Emmett, Jas, you know you're what's most important to me."

"Am I?" I asked, looking him directly in the eye. "Am I _really_?"

"Yes! Are you really going to let Emmett―"

"I can't even fucking believe you think this has anything to do with Emmett!" I yelled, cutting him off. "This isn't about your idiot brother, this is about you. Where the fuck have you been, Edward? _Where_ have _you_ been?"

"With you, baby. I'm here, I've been here with you."

I laughed humorlessly, shaking my head in incredulity. "Really? When is the last time we fucked, Edward?"

His face blanched and his lips popped open, mouth forming soundless words as he floundered for something to say.

"When is the last you came home and couldn't keep your hands off of me? When is the last time you even really kissed me? When is the last time you really wanted me?"

"I want you now, Jas, I always have," he rushed out.

"It's too fucking late."

"Jasper, don't say that," he begged.

"Have you been cheating on me?" I asked―I didn't really want to know if he had been, but at the same time, I felt like I had to ask.

His reaction surprised me. I'd expected fear and guilt and defensiveness, but instead he just looked blown away by my question. His shock was honest and sincere, raw bewilderment mixed with his own disbelief. At that moment, my resolve to leave began to crumble.

"What?" he gasped in answer. "Jasper, why would you... No! Never. Why would you think that?"

"Is there something wrong with me then?" I asked.

"No!" he responded earnestly. "You're fucking perfect, just like you've always been."

"Is there something wrong with you?" I pressed.

"Obviously! If you think I would cheat on you, I am obviously doing something wrong. But you need to talk to me, Jasper. You can't... You can't just leave me. What did I _do_?"

"It's not what you did do, Edward, it's what you didn't do," I groaned exasperatedly, leaning hard into the wall and pushing my head back so I wouldn't have to look into his wide, alarmed eyes. "Fuck, it's been months, _months,_ since I've felt at all wanted. You don't even willingly kiss me anymore, let alone touch me." I shook my head, forcing myself to meet his eyes. "Are you sure I'm still what you want?"

"Jas," he rasped. He brought his hands up to my face, cupping my cheeks in his hand, eyes meeting mine firmly. "You're all I want. You're all I've ever wanted. If something's changed between us, it's not you, it's―"

I groaned, pushing his hands off of my face and turned my head away. "Don't you fucking dare use that bullshit 'it's not you, it's me' line to break up with me."

He gripped my face again, more firmly this time, forcing eye contact once again. "I'm _not_ breaking up with you, Jasper," he said surely. "And it's not you, it's me. When I get home, I'm so fucking tired, I just want to sleep. I'm so sorry that I've made you feel unwanted, I had no intention of hurting you. You know I can't sleep without you. I just need to be in our bed, to know you're there."

"Really?" I asked, not hopeful but doubtful still.

"Yes. All I do in those hotel rooms is wander around aimlessly and toss and turn in bed, thinking of you."

"Why don't you call anymore?"

He shook his head. "Who wants to listen to their boyfriend whine every fucking day, Jasper?"

"I do," I insisted. "I want to listen to you whine, Edward, because it's better than not hearing your voice at all. I can't stand not having you telling me you love me before I go to sleep every night. I can't do it anymore."

"Okay. Okay, then I will call you every day, baby. I just didn't want to burden you with all of my shit. I'm sorry."

"And what about when you're here, Edward? You're here for a few days, at least, and you spend them sleeping and avoiding me. How do you expect me to believe you want me, _love me_ , when all you do anymore is try to be away from me?"

"That is not true, Jas. I don't avoid you on purpose."

"I understand you wanting to have some time by yourself to spend with your family and friends and to just do your own thing, but you haven't been sparing me any recently."

"I'm sorry, baby, that'll change," he said, using his thumb to trace the curve of my bottom lip.

I shoved his hand away. "If you don't want to spend time with me, I'm not going to force you to."

"I want to, I just didn't notice I was doing it."

"You didn't notice..."

"I didn't notice it was me who was doing it, but I'll change that now that you've mentioned it."

"What do you mean 'didn't notice it was me'? You think that I've been trying to avoid you?" I asked incredulously.

He sighed. "No, not exactly. But you always used to ask me to do stuff with you and―"

"And you always said no!" I yelled, my temper flaring again.

"I know, but when you stopped asking, I thought maybe you didn't want to spend every minute together anymore. I would have understood that, I mean, people change, you grow up. I thought you didn't need me around all the time anymore so I didn't want to be overbearing," he explained, shrugging.

"Jesus," I groaned, thudding my head against the wall. Had we really been miscommunicating that terribly for so long? "What is your excuse for the lack of interest in sex then?" I asked, utterly defeated.

"There isn't a 'lack of interest,' Jasper. As for my 'excuse,' it's the same, I guess. I thought it had gotten to be too much for you."

"What the fuck gave you that idea? If I could keep up with you when we fucked three times a day, don't you think I'd at least want it once a fucking week? For God's sake, once a month, without having to _beg_!"

"I'm sorry, Jas. I'm so, so fucking sorry. I'm an idiot, this is all my fault, will you forgive me?" I narrowed my eyes at his slightly patronizing, placating tone and he sighed. "I'll take all the blame, Jasper, but you should have spoken up sooner."

"Because you know how I love confrontation so much."

"It's me, Jasper. Me! You should know by now you can talk to me, about anything."

"I think we just got so far apart, I didn't feel that way anymore," I told him.

His eyes got watery and he had to look up to stop the moisture from escaping. Swallowing loudly, he pushed on. "I'm sorry, Jasper," he said softly. "I'm sorry and I want to change, I want to fix this. Please, please don't go."

I stepped forward away from the wall and waited. His arms uncertainly moved towards me and when they finally wrapped around my shoulders, I stepped completely into him, closing my eyes and just breathing.

"I was only going to go because I thought you were cheating."

He sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry that you thought I would do that to you. I wouldn't, Jas, ever. I couldn't cheat on you, and I would never want to."

"I'm sorry I didn't talk to you sooner," I mumbled into his chest.

"It's my fault."

A big part of me wanted to let him shoulder that, wanted him to think it was all his fault, but I couldn't be that selfish or this would continue to not work. I took some of the blame, because I _was_ partially to blame. I should have said something a long time ago.

We barely loosened our embrace to move to the bed, where we stayed twined together for hours just talking. Edward agreed to ask for less hours at work so he wouldn't be gone quite as much, so he'd be less tired. I agreed to talk more, to tell him when something didn't feel right or when I was questioning his motives.

His phone was buzzing away on the floor, drawing our attention back to the outside world. We were both surprised that it was already two in the afternoon. We had to be to his parent's house for dinner, we hadn't even talked to―most―of his family yet like we normally would have by now.

"Merry Christmas," I whispered.

His lips curled slightly, making my own twitch. "Having you is still the best gift I've ever been given."

Just as his phone started another round of buzzing, he rolled on top of me, settling his weight on his forearms while I spread my knees to allow him between.

"Do you want me?" he asked gruffly, his arousal already making itself known between us.

My heart jumped into my throat, excitement so overpowering coursing through my veins, making my heart race. It'd been so long, and God, I wanted him so much, I couldn't even begin to explain.

"Yes," I begged, shaking with need.

He kissed me then, for the first time in far too long and I lost myself in the feeling, my arms and legs wrapping around him in hopes of getting him closer.

"I've missed you so much," he whispered against my open mouth.

"Me too," I sobbed, the tears not coming but the ache was present in my chest; this time it was a different ache, one of hope and healing and my love for him.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry this happened. We're going to fix it, we'll be okay and it's never going to be like that again. I promise."

He kissed me again, hard enough to bruise, but I only tried to get him closer. I whimpered as he pulled away slightly, shifting his weight onto his knees.

"I love you," he said. I opened my eyes and he looked down at me like he wanted to see right into my soul. "I love you," he repeated.

"I love you too," I choked out. "Please don't stop."

"I won't," he promised.

He shifted his arms under me and brought me up, easily pulling my shirt over my head. As I fell back onto the pillows, I pulled him back down to me, kissing him with every ounce of frantic need that I felt. I pulled at his shirt, wanting to feel his skin on mine, and our lips were separated for only the barest of moments before we were kissing again.

Using my feet for leverage, I pushed up and ground my hips hard against his, making us both moan at the friction. He dropped back down to lay between my legs, shoving the remaining clothing down our legs, leaving us both naked and rubbing our hot, hard cocks against each other.

He continued to kiss me, blindly feeling for the nightstand and yanking the drawer open. I kept kissing him, needing breath but not wanting to break our contact. I gasped for air when he finally pulled away to find what we needed.

He came back to kiss me some more after setting our supplies out on the nightstand. At the sound of the lube cap snapping open, my hips bucked up against him, making him chuckle and me blush at my enthusiasm.

His cool, wet fingers made me jump and he mumbled an apology into my mouth, circling his fingers around my opening, making me shudder. He pulled back, sitting back on his heels, and watched as he dipped his finger inside then started to circle again.

"Don't tease me," I chastised.

His lips quirked again and he nodded, carefully pressing one lubed finger inside of me.

"Fuck," I gasped as he started to swirl it.

"I'm sorry it's been so long, baby. I shouldn't have made you wait."

"It's okay, just don't do it again," I requested.

"Never. Never again."

He dropped down over me, kissing me as he added a second finger.

"Fuck, it really has been too long," he whispered, scissoring his fingers apart.

"Yes," I agreed, moaning as he knowingly curled his fingers before withdrawing them, then pushing them in again and repeating the process. "Oh, God, just fuck me," I begged.

I'd rather have had a little bit of pain than the torture. I needed to be closer to him; I needed to feel him.

"Please," I moaned as he added a third finger.

I grabbed the condom off the nightstand and tore it open for him. He kept his finger in me, maddeningly wiggling and curling and stretching me as he rolled the condom on with his other hand.

Finally he moved his fingers, then added a bit more lube and slowly started to push into me. I braced my hands against the headboard and curled my legs around his hips, pushing against him and pulling him towards me at the same time. I groaned loudly and my eyes rolled back in my head as he entered me completely in the one swift movement.

He grabbed my thighs and untangled them from around him, hooking his elbows under my knees and fixing me with a firm glare that meant I was in trouble. I bit my lip to keep from smiling.

Slowly, he eased out, watching me closely for signs of discomfort. He wouldn't find any. It had been too long, and normally I would have needed a few minutes to adjust, but I couldn't wait. I needed him too fucking much. I wanted the slight burn that accompanied his big cock stretching me.

"Fuck me, Edward," I moaned, tilting my hips toward him and trying to use my heels to pull him back into me again.

His eyes met mine while he paused for a moment, then he thrust into me hard and fast. I bit my lip, muffling my shout and he stayed completely still, allowing me to adjust.

"Hard," I growled. "Fuck me hard."

He pulled out, almost completely, and pushed back in again, just as hard and fast. Over and over, his eyes on mine, watching to make sure it didn't get to be too much.

I kept my hands on the headboard, keeping myself in place as he pounded into me relentlessly.

And God, it was so fucking good.

When his hand wrapped around my thigh and he started to stroke my cock in time with his thrusts, I knew it was going to be over soon.

But I wasn't scared. I believed him when he said he hadn't meant for us to get this way. I believed things were going to change. I believed we'd be in bed again tonight after we had dinner with his family, making up for the time we lost.

"More!" I moaned.

He fucked me harder yet, moaning his own pleasure as I tried to hold on for just a bit longer. I couldn't do it, he was angled just right, sending shocks of pleasure from my hairline to my toes with every stroke.

"Fuck," I sobbed, my head pressing back into the bed as my back arched up.

I bit down hard on my lip as I tipped over the edge, every pleasurable shake making it harder not to cry.

It'd been so fucking long, and God, I'd missed it more than I could explain. Being with him like this wasn't something I could willingly go without.

"God, Jasper," I heard Edward call.

I was still so fucking lost in my own orgasm, I hardly noticed when he started to cum. It was when he collapsed on top of me after finishing that I realized he'd cum too.

I groaned a laugh into his ear and he just stretched out more fully on top of me, flattening me against the mattress with his weight.

"We have to shower," I said into his ear, kissing it noisily when he didn't respond. "Come on, up, we have to go to your parents' house."

With an exaggerated groan, he heaved himself up off of me, then pulled me to my feet.

We showered together, taking longer than we rightly should have, but we couldn't stop kissing and touching and just holding each other as we got clean. He washed my hair and I washed his and neither of us could stop smiling, it was so much like old times―how it was supposed to be.

We dried each other and stole kisses the entire time we were getting ready and I wanted to kick myself for not saying anything sooner. It really was my fault; he looked so fucking much happier now than I'd seen him in... Well, the door swung both ways. We had both been unhappy, and now that we knew, I think we both were going to work to keep the other as happy as we were at that moment.

He held my hand as he drove toward his parents' house, and I nearly had forgotten how he used to do that every time we went somewhere. I'd forgotten how happy it made me just to hold his hand.

As he parked the car, I told him that I loved him, and he pulled me in for more kisses.

Usually Edward's father came out to help us carry in gifts, so I was surprised when I got out of the car to see Emmett walking towards us, looking fiercely determined.

I braced myself for whatever he was going to do, standing my ground even though he was at least double my weight and half a foot taller.

I squeaked as he collided with me, arms the size of my legs wrapping around me so tightly I couldn't breathe.

"I'm sorry. I still don't like you but you're right. We need to put this shit behind us for Edward, deal?" he asked, releasing me and stepping back.

I nodded, not knowing what else to do.

"Merry Christmas, Jasper," he said before turning to his brother. He apologized to him and hugged him, then helped us carry all the gifts into the house.

It was a chaotic evening, his family's house was always loud and exuberant, overwhelming at times with their enthusiasm. After dinner, we all sat down in the living room to open gifts. As I tried to take a spot on the floor beside Edward, he pulled me down in his lap, surprising me.

As he kissed my neck, I squirmed in his lap, embarrassed as my dick grew hard in front of his whole fucking family. They were ignoring us, thankfully, because I'm sure my face was tellingly red.

"Merry Christmas, love," he whispered.

I turned my head to repeat the sentiment, but he caught my mouth in a kiss before I could, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

For the first time in so long, I felt everything was truly going to be okay.


End file.
